


Arthur Reincarnated

by OverlyObsessedFangirl1



Series: Fractured Fairy Tales [1]
Category: Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-07-03 11:22:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15817890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverlyObsessedFangirl1/pseuds/OverlyObsessedFangirl1
Summary: The characters from King Arthur are reincarnated in the modern world





	1. Prologue

A long time ago, around 1975, Draco Utherstylo fell madly in love with Igrayne Vivienne, the girlfriend of his best friend Goloris Tintagel. Draco kept his feelings secret for many years, but he coveted Igrayne, furiously turning his back when she married Goloris instead of him.

Ten years into their marriage, Goloris was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Draco didn’t do a thing. Goloris and Igrayne’s five-year-old daughter, Eliana, was sent to live with Igrayne's mother. Three years later, the twins, Morgawse and Morgan, were born the day before Goloris passed on. Heartbroken, Igrayne turned to Draco for comfort. He seized his chance, claiming Igrayne as his bride within the year.

Eight happy years passed, and Igrayne was blessed with a son. Sadly, Igrayne fell ill with childbirth fever, and died that same night.

The sudden loss of Igrayne hardened Draco's heart. He could no longer stand the sight of the children, as Igrayne was present in each one. The responsibility of raising the child fell mainly to Morgawse and Morgan. They decided to call him Arthur, after their favorite legendary king. Within two years, Draco had retreated fully into his mind.

Morgawse quickly learned how to use the kitchen, and sold cookies for spare change, which she used to feed her twin, the babe, and her ailing stepfather, eating whatever was left over herself.

Morgan found herself nursing her stepfather, begging for help. But he was trapped in a world of his own, and Morgan's fragile heart was turned to stone.

After thirteen long years, Eliana returned to her broken family. She was horrified to find two ten-year-olds caring for a two-year-old boy and a fifty-three-year-old man who was legally insane. Though only eighteen, she quickly set to work, transferring Draco to Sunny Valley Asylum, and relieving the twins of their mothering duties.

But it was too late for Morgan. As soon as she was free, she devoted her life to the ancient study of magic, all the while keeping up the pretense of a sad, innocent little girl, secretly vowing to get revenge on the boy who took her mother's life…


	2. The Adventure Begins

_14 years later_

"Art, get up! You're going to be late!"

Art groaned and put his pillow over his head. Morgawse poked her head in the door.

"Art, Eliana says that if you don't get downstairs in five minutes, I get to dump a bucket of ice water on you!" She giggled and ducked as Art bolted upright and threw the pillow at her.

"She didn't!" he yelped.

"No, but she DID say I could eat your breakfast if you don't hurry up." She dodged another pillow and vanished, laughing.

Art dragged himself out of bed and stumbled over to his dresser, pulling on the first clothes his hands found. After dragging a comb through his hair and splashing water on his face to wake him up, he followed Morgawse downstairs.

"Morning," he mumbled, pulling his toast away from Morgawse. She looked up and nearly choked on her orange juice, her eyes bulging as she tried not to laugh.

"What?" Art asked.

"What...you wearing...crazy?" she choked out, coughing as Morgan thumped her on the back, smirking.

Art looked down and cursed. He was wearing a ruffled dress shirt and smiley face boxers. Both were tinted pink.

"Why are they pink?" he asked calmly.

"A red sock got mixed in with the whites," Morgan replied. "But even so, a dress shirt and underwear are _so_ not a good outfit for your first day of school. Especially if you're starting in the middle of the semester." She smiled sweetly. Art stuck out his tongue.

"Enough, you two," Eliana said. "Art, you eat, and I'll go find you some clothes that aren't pink. Morgan, no teasing him. Understand?"

"Yes, Eliana," she replied.

Eliana left. Morgan's smile vanished. She glared at Art.

"Thou had better watch thy back, Arthur King," she snarled. "The witches are rising, and they do not favor thou." She stood and marched out the front door, slamming it behind her. Art looked at Morgawse, who shrugged.

"She's just getting used to a new life and name?" she suggested uncertainly.

"I hope you're right," Art said, staring at the front door. "But it seems like she has been getting darker ever since we moved here.”


	3. First Day

“Have a nice day, Art,” Eliana called. “I’ll be at the studio until six if you need anything. Morgan and Morgawse will pick you up at four.”

Art waved good bye and turned to face the school. It was huge. It reminded him vaguely of a castle he had seen in one of Morgawse’s books. He was so busy staring up at the school, trying to place it, that he didn’t realize where he was going until he walked right into someone.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, bending down to help pick up the books she dropped.

“No, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t just stop in the middle of the path,” she said reaching for the last book at the same time as Art. Their hands brushed, and she looked up, startled. Their eyes met, and Art forgot where he was, she was so beautiful, with her long, wavy, golden hair and her sparkling blue eyes. She even had a little freckle bridge across her nose.

“I’m Art,” he breathed.

“Jen,” she responded. He was kind of cute, she decided, with his dark hair and green-gray irises.

“Um, I should be going,” she said at last, standing up.

“Yeah, of course,” Art shook his head. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

Jen hurried away, and Art was suddenly very glad Eliana had found him some jeans and a non-pink T-shirt.

 

* * *

  
“Welcome to Tolemac High,” Mr. Monroe told Art. “If you need anything, just ask. You can have a seat next to Merla there.”

He gestured to a rickety wooden desk next to a pretty girl with coffee bean skin and auburn hair.

Art took his seat. "Art,” he said, extending his hand.

The girl called Merla took it. “Merla. I can be your guide today, if that’s alright with you.”

“Great,” Art said. “So, what class is this?“ he asked as Mr. Monroe droned on about castles and kings, drawing bad diagrams and writing statistics on the chalkboard.

"The history of Tolemac High. It used to be a Renaissance castle for some highborn family, but was remodeled to become a school in the 1800s.”

Art nodded, and Merla turned to face the front again. Although clearly not paying attention, she knew the answers to every question like she had been there when it all happened. Art raised his eyebrows in appreciation. Everyone else acted like this was normal, continuing to doodle absentmindedly on their notebooks or squinting at the board, trying to decipher Mr. Monroe’s horrible handwriting.

 

* * *

  
“And this is Science 101,” Merla concluded, pausing outside of yet another classroom that was identical to all the others. “Miss Mason should let you borrow some supplies until you get settled into the routine.” She smiled and left.

Art hurried into the room and took the first available seat he spotted. He had just unpacked his books when a tall, angry boy approached him, glaring through his shoulder-length black hair, his ice blue eyes seeming to pierce Art’s very soul.

“Hi, I’m Art,” Art said, extending his hand. The boy just glared at him, and Art dropped his arm.

“You’re in my seat,” the boy snarled. “ _Eruat_. Get out.”

Art automatically rose, scrambling to another seat, far away from the creepy boy. He was confused. His legs seemed to be under someone else’s control. He didn’t move willingly; it was like he was being forced to.

“Had a run-in with Modraed, did you?” a voice inquired. Art turned around, and Jen smiled at him.

“Who is he?” Art asked her. The strange tingly sensation in his legs had finally gone away.

“Modraed, the school bully. He can make almost anyone do almost anything. The only person who can really resist him is Merla,” Jen explained. “He seems to have taken a particular disliking to you,” she added thoughtfully.

“Great,” Art grumbled, turning back around, just as Miss Mason walked in.

The concept of Modraed was soon driven from Art’s mind, as they spent the class period dissecting the contents of sheep’s stomachs. Halfway through the hour long class, his partner Galahad fainted, and not long after, Jen’s sheep stomach exploded, covering everyone within a ten foot radius with sheep guts.

By the time everyone was clean and the lab was scrubbed down, they were running two class periods behind, and it was time for homeroom before lunch. Art was exhausted.


	4. A Sword in a Stone

At quarter to four, the final bell rang. Art grabbed his bag and headed to the parking lot. As he was passing the theatre, he heard yelling. He poked his head in to see what was going on.

“It was an accident!” he heard Merla cry.

“How can you get a plastic sword stuck in a real boulder?” a boy shouted. “It’s impossible!”

“It’s obviously not impossible if she managed to do it, Lance,” Jen said patiently. “The question is, how?”

“I don’t know! I just put the sword point down on the rock and leaned against it, and it just…slid in.” Merla sounded close to tears.

“But now it’s stuck!” the boy called Lance moaned. “No one can get it out!”

“What’s going on in here?” Art asked, walking towards the stage.

“This idiot here somehow managed to get a plastic sword stuck in a boulder, and none of us can get it out!” Lance exploded. “And it’s the only one we get for our movie. The rest are foam, and look so fake!”

“Let me try,” Art offered. He walked over to the stone and grasped its handle.

“Tug all you want, it ain’t com-” Lance’s jaw dropped. For at that moment, Art pulled, and the sword slid easily out of the rock.

“How? We all tried forever and it wouldn’t budge!” Jen gasped.

“I don’t know, there isn’t even a hole where the sword was.” Art said, looking from sword to boulder.

The other three exchanged glances, seemingly communicating without words.

“What?” Art asked, confused.

“Nothing, just…would you like to help us put together our video?” Jen asked. “It’s called Avalon, and it’s about a boy who unites a mythical island that was nearly destroyed after centuries of war.”

“Sure, but what…”

“Great! Lance will talk with Percy, the student director, and get him to send you a script,” Jen interrupted.

Throughout this whole exchange, Merla just stood there, staring thoughtfully at Art. It was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

“Um, ok, I’ll see you guys around.” Art left the theatre, glancing back to see Jen, Lance, and Merla arguing in hurried whispers. He shook his head to clear it, and sprinted toward the parking lot, where he found the twins waiting for him. He ran to the car, and they set off for home.


	5. A Mysterious Burn

“How was the first day of school?” Eliana asked Art that evening at dinner.

“Ok, I met two, maybe three friends, Merla, Jen, and Lance,” he replied, reaching for the potatoes. “But the weirdest thing happened after school.”

“What happened? Are you ok?” Eliana asked, clearly concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine. As I was passing the theatre on the way to the track, I heard voices arguing. I went to check it out, and it turns out Merla had somehow managed to get a plastic sword stuck in a boulder, and no one could get it out. But when I tried, it slid out easily, and there was no indication that it had ever been stuck in the rock.”

Eliana looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then shrugged. Morgan, on the other hand, looked furious. The sudden hostility in his sister’s expression shocked Art. Literally.

“Ouch!” he cried out, clutching his arm.

“What?” Morgawse asked, worried.

“I just got shocked!” Art blabbered.

He pulled his hand away from his arm. It was bright red and smoking slightly. Everyone’s eyes widened. Everyone’s except Morgan, who smirked, looking pleased with herself.

“Wha- Morgawse, go get some aloe and a bandage. Morgan, get a cool washcloth,” Eliana instructed, looking concerned at the big, bright red patch on Art’s arm. It was beginning to blister.

She took the washcloth and laid it gently across the burn. Art screamed.

“Owwww! That stings! Get it off! OFF!”  
Eliana slowly peeled the cloth away from the skin. She spread the aloe gel and wrapped Art’s arm snugly in the bandage.

“We’ll take a look in the morning,” she said. “'Til then, take it easy. I’ll clear your place, you go lie down.“ She stood, helping Art to his feet.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, the burn was green.

"I don’t get it,” Eliana said. “First it comes out of nowhere, and then it turns green? Don’t move, I’m going to call the doctor.”

Morgan came in after Eliana left.

“I can heal that,” she whispered. She laid her hand on Art’s arm. The burn faded to a pale pink scar. “Or I can make it so much worse.”

Art’s whole body burned like he was being consumed by fire. He clenched his teeth, determined not to scream.

The pain faded. The burn vanished. His arm looked like nothing had ever happened. He gasped.

“Just never cross the Witches again, boy. Or it will be excruciating pain for all of thy little friends, too.” She left, just as Eliana returned.

“I’m telling you, it came from out nowhere and now it’s green! No, I don’t know. I-“ she stopped. She had just noticed the burn was gone. "Never mind.” She hung up.

“I don’t know, Morgan just touched it and… poof,” Art answered in response to Eliana’s questioning glance.

“Right, well, now the doctors think I’m crazy, and you’re late for school.”

Art scrambled out of bed and threw on the first non-pink clothes he found.


	6. Chapter 6

“Hey, Jen! Wait up!”

Art jogged to catch up with Jen, who was waiting outside their French class.

“What’s up, Art?” she asked.

“I was wondering- um, I was wondering, would you, that is, I would totally understand if you didn’t, but, um, will you go out with me?” he blurted.

Jen blinked. “Wow, uh, yeah, sure. I would love to.”

It was Art’s turn to blink. “Wait, really?”

Jen nodded. “When?”

“How about Sunday night? I’ll meet you at the park.”

“See you then,” Jen said, walking into class.

* * *

  
Art could hardly wait for Sunday evening. When it finally arrived, he spent more time than usual picking out his clothes, and spent fifteen minutes messing up his hair, and flattening it again. When he was satisfied at last, he grabbed the sandwiches Eliana had made, a thermos of lemonade, and a blanket, and threw them all in a basket, before sprinting to Avalon Park. 

Art met up with Jen at the edge of the forest.

“I brought candles,” she said, sticking them in the ground. “For when it gets dark.”

“Good thinking,” Art smiled at her. “I hope you don’t mind sandwiches. I’ve got tuna, turkey, ham, and good ol’ PB and J.”

Jen smiled back and took a turkey. Art poured the lemonade and laid back on the blanket.

After an hour of laughing and chatting, it began to get dark, so Art lit the candles. What the light revealed made his legs feel like the jelly in his sandwich. Jen was propped up on one arm, smiling at him. The candlelight made her hair shimmer like real gold, and her lip gloss shimmered. The next thing he knew, he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, passionately. Her lips tasted like strawberries, and she smelled like roses.

After what could have been only a minute or a whole year, they broke apart. Jen quickly looked away, her face uncomfortably warm.

“It’s late,” she said at last. “I should get going.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Art said, blushing. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

Jen nodded. Art helped her to her feet, kissing her hand.

“Until next time, my lady,” he breathed. 

As they set off for their homes, neither one noticed the dark figure crouching behind the trees, watching them.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day at school, Art could not look at Jen without quickly looking away and blushing. Unfortunately, the others noticed his strange behavior.

“So, you and Jen?” Lance asked him at lunch.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Art said, a bit too fast.

“Come on, it’s so obvious. You like her, she likes you. You can tell me,” he added at Art’s defiant expression. 

“I don’t know. I mean, I like her, but does she really like me back?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Lance asked, nodding towards the buffet.

When Art looked over, his heart skipped a beat. There stood Jen, looking like an angel as she laughed at something Merla had just said. She looked up, saw Art looking at her, and ducked her head, smiling. She glanced at Art through her curtain of hair, and found him grinning stupidly.

“And are you even listening to me?” Merla asked her.

“Sorry, what?” Jen gave her head a little shake and looked up to see Merla grinning as she turned from Jen to Art.

“Oh, I see,” she teased. “Prince Charming captured your heart?”

“What?” Jen asked, surprised.

“It’s all right, only the whole school knows about it,” Merla continued.

“WHAT?” Jen shrieked, terrified.

Merla laughed. “I’m joking, relax. Lance and I are the only ones who know.”

Jen gave her a little push. “Fine, I admit it. We had a candlelit picnic last night, next to Avalon Forest.” She and Merla headed to the table where Art and Lance were sitting.

As the girls approached, Lance stood up.

“I, uh, left my bag in the science lab. I’ll be right back.” 

“…and then we left,” Jen finished, looking around. “Merla?”

Merla had vanished, leaving Jen alone with Art. He helped her into her seat, and then sat down across from her. They spent the rest of lunch laughing together, oblivious to the hooded stranger spying on them through the window.


	8. Chapter 8

About a month after Art started attending Tolemac High, everyone knew about him and Jen. Not everyone was pleased.

“Did you see that kid Modraed?” Lance asked. “He was muttering something in a different language about you and Jen.”

“He is probably just jealous,“ Art responded, giving Jen a squeeze. "After all, she is the most beautiful girl at Tolemac High.”

“Yeah, she is,” Lance said to himself.

“What?” Art asked.

“Nothing,” responded Lance quickly.

“Any how… are you going to prom?” Merla interjected.

“Of course, and I decided, after considering it for a long time, to take Jen,” Art teased. Jen punched his arm.

“Merla, who are you going with?” questioned Art.

“Lance and I are going as friends,” she answered.

  
As the quartet chattered about prom, Modraed slipped over to the shadowy figure hunched outside the door.

“Arthur is taking Jennifer to prom,” he told it. “And Lance is beginning to have feelings for her.”

“Excellent,” said the figure. “And when Jennifer realizes that she has feelings for Lance as well, Arthur will be heartbroken, and vulnerable.” It laughed, a cold, evil, bone-chilling laugh.

“Aperiesque ostium foris est mundum temporis,” the hooded figure called out, throwing back its head. A glowing gateway shimmered into existence before it, and the mysterious person turned to its companion.

“Art thy ready?” it rasped. Modraed nodded, and together they stepped through the portal, which vanished behind them.

“Sisters, it is time,” the figure said, throwing back her hood. Morgan shoved Modraed into the center of the clearing.

“Thou hath done well,” a young girl of nine said, stepping forward. Morgan shuddered. Despite appearances, this girl was the Witch that had single-handedly brought about the Dark Age.

“I thank thee, milady,” said Morgan, bowing.

“Sisters,” the girl cried, turning to face the hundreds of cloaked figures surrounding the clearing. “Morgan le Fae hath finished what thou hath began. She hath found the boy king, Arthur, and his queen. This boy,” she indicated Modraed, “hath pledged allegiance to us. With his help, we shall have our revenge on those who persecuted us!” The crowd cheered.

“And I shall bring you the girl,” said Modraed. “And you may replace her with a Witch, and destroy Arthur, as you have planned for these many years.” The crowd cheered louder, and he grinned, a devilish grin.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to post this! I've been super busy, but everything is written :) The next chapter should be up tomorrow.

“So, which dress should I wear?” Jen wondered aloud.

“Try on the purple one again,” said Merla.

The two friends were in Jen’s room, picking out dresses for the following night. Merla lay across Jen’s bed, propped up on her elbows. Jen was behind her screen, changing into a purple dress with a pink corset. She stepped out and twirled before her best friend.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“You look like a princess,” Merla sighed. “Ooh, hold still.”

She waved her hand and said, “ _Plectere ribbons in comam_.”

Jen’s hair braided itself, shimmering purple ribbons intertwined. She looked in the mirror and oohed.

“Merla, it’s lovely!” she cooed. “But I thought you said you only used magic when you had to.”

“We need to figure out what you’re wearing tomorrow, and I don’t have the patience to braid your hair myself,” she said simply. “Now change back, as we have to finish shooting the movie today.”

* * *

An hour later, the four friends met up at the entrance to Avalon Forest. After acknowledging one another, they set off, marching about a mile through the overgrown brush before coming to a wide lake.

“This is Avalon Lake, and in the middle is the island of Avalon,” said Lance. “Percy said he set up the equipment for us, and we can start shooting whenever.”

They rowed across the early still water, and found the equipment right where Percy had left it.

"And…action!” cried Lance.

He and Art started fighting with fake swords, Art finally disarming Lance.

“And now, Sir Falcow, thou shalt lift the curse from the land, or thou shalt die,” recited Art.

“Who art thou to order me about?” exploded Lance. “I, the almighty Falcow, who hath seen thy future, and shared mine wisdom with thee?”

“If thou does not lift thy curse, then thou leaves me no choice. Thou shalt die, and the curse will die with thee.” Art plunged down with the sword, taking care to stab the ground beside Lance. Lance moaned, and froze.

Merla snapped her fingers, and a wave of cool air rippled from where Lance lay. Art looked around, confused.

“Where did that wind come from?” he asked.

Merla turned to Jen. “I thought you told him!” she hissed.

Jen lowered the camera. “I forgot,” she said sheepishly, remembering the night before, when she had meant to tell Art about Merla’s powers, but had ended up kissing him the whole time instead. Again.

“Well, turn off the camera and go tell him,” said Merla, giving her a little push.

Jen powered down the camera and handed it to Merla.

“Art?” she called, walking over to where Art was helping Lance to his feet. “There’s something you should know about Merla.”

“You haven’t told him yet?” asked Lance, shocked.

Jen shook her head. “Art, this is going to sound mad, but Merla has magic. She’s had it since she was born, and the only reason she’s not telling you this herself is under strict orders not to, and when a Witch orders a creature of magic not to do something, it’s nearly impossible to disobey.”

“I suspected as much,” said Art, nodding thoughtfully. “How else could she have done some of the things she has done, including getting the sword stuck in the stone. But what do you mean, a witch?”

“There’s a secret order of girls that have devoted themselves to the study of Black Magic,” began Lance. “They call themselves the Witches of Time. They meet in a place set outside of time, and range in age from seven, when magic shows itself-”

“To when they die,” finished Merla, joining them. “And girls from today all the way back to the middle ages are part of it. Since they meet out of time, it makes sense that they can step through time as well. I would have told you myself, Art, but Mo-Mor-” she coughed, choking on the word, unable to say the name.

“Morgan forbade her to,” concluded Jen, handing Merla a water bottle.

“Wait, Morgan, my sister Morgan, is a Witch?” Art gasped.

Lance nodded. “Sorry, dude, but she is bad news. Best to pretend you don’t know anything about this, though, if you value your life. When Merla here found out, the only thing that kept Morgan from killing her was the fact that she could order her not to tell a soul.”

Art nodded back. “All right, back to business. We’re done filming, Percy will do the editing, so we’re free to go.”

“Just in time, too,” said Jen, pointing to the sky. “It looks like a storm is coming.”


	10. Chapter 10

The friends packed up the filming gear and set off for their separate homes. But not all of them made it there.

“Jen! Hey, Jen! Hold on! _Usque Opperiri!_ ” Modraed called, jogging to catch up.

Jen froze against her will. She grew tingly. She knew this feeling. Magic.

“Why in such a hurry?” he asked, reaching her. “Such beauty,” he whispered, stroking Jen’s cheek. She shuddered. He laughed.

“There is someone who wants to meet you,” Modraed continued, withdrawing his hand as Jen snapped at it. The spell was wearing off, and she was regaining control of her body. If this was going to work, he was going to have to act fast. He lifted his face to the sky, raising his arms.

“ _Aperiesque ostium foris est mundum temporis!_ ” he cried. The glowing gate appeared, and both Modraed and Jen were whisked through time.

* * *

 When they landed in the clearing, Jen froze. It was not magic that held her this time, though. It was fear. Before her stood hundreds of hooded figures, staring at her.

One of the younger figures stepped forward, removing her cloak. Her long, brown hair cascaded to the ground, and her golden gown gave her the appearance of an angel. It was her eyes that ruined the effect. Cold, black, glaring, soulless.

It was clear that this was the leader. She radiated power. As she passed the others, they shrunk back, averting their eyes.

“Jennifer,” she cooed, her voice like wind chimes. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. We hope you enjoy your stay. Morgan le Fae will be watching over you.” She laughed. “My name is Morlaine, and I will be taking your place tonight.”

Jen found her voice. “You'll never get away with this. Merla-”

“-will not even know the difference. She will be too busy protecting your precious Art from Modraed, here.“

Morlaine laughed, and snipped some of Jen’s hair. She dropped it into the cauldron that Morgan carried up and began to chant.

" _Crinibus a te, ut meam i sui similes vultus tui!_ ”

The potion bubbled, and became a sickly green color. Morlaine filled a glass with the thick liquid, and drank it.

Instantly, she fell to the ground, twitching. Her hair grew back into her head, lightening; her eyes flashed as they cycled through all the colors of the world before settling on blue; her legs grew longer. Then she was still.

No one dared move. Slowly, Morlaine regained consciousness. She stood up, and Jen was looking at herself.

But when Morlaine spoke, even though she was using Jen’s voice, she still had her cruel, icy tone. “And now, dear Jennifer, you shall crush your beloved Arthur’s heart.”

With that, Morlaine returned to Jen’s life.


	11. Chapter 11

The next evening, Art, Merla, Lance, and Morlaine, met at the nearby country club, the venue for the night, dressed to the nines.

“Jen, you look amazing,” said Art, passing her a corsage. Morlaine was wearing the purple dress Merla had picked out for Jen, and had her hair braided with ribbons.

“Merla, nice dress,” Lance offered. Merla glared at him.

“I mean, as a friend, you look lovely,” he stammered, thrusting her a corsage.

Merla did indeed look lovely. Her royal blue dress with gold embroidered accents complemented her coffee bean skin and auburn hair, with sparkles and gold ribbon braided in it.

The group headed inside, enjoying an hour of dancing and laughing, before things started to go wrong.

“Jen? Where are you?” Art called, looking around. Morlaine had vanished.

Merla approached Art. “Have you seen Lance?” she asked.

“Have you seen Jen?” Art asked her at the same time.

“Jen went to the bathroom a few minutes ago,” Merla gestured to the hall. “I thought she would be back by now.”

“Lance was by the punch bowl last I saw him,” Art said, already heading to the hall.

Once in the hall, Art froze. There, on a bench in front of the bathrooms, were Lance and Morlaine, entwined. To Art’s eyes, however, it looked like his girlfriend was kissing his best friend.

He turned around and stormed back into the gym. Merla saw him and hurried over.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing his distress.

“Go see for yourself,” was his only reply.

Confused, Merla stepped into the hall.

“Jen!” she scolded. “Lance!”

The two broke apart. Lance saw the anger in Merla’s eyes, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “I’ll meet up with you later,” and dived back into the hoard of students.

“What does thou think thou art doing?” asked Morlaine.

“What are YOU doing, making out with Lance, when your boyfriend is in there, furious?” shot back Merla. “Wait-did you just say thou and art?”

“Does it matter to thee?”

“Who art thou,” said Merla, glowing, as she transformed into a medieval sorceress. “And what hath thy done with Lady Jennifer?”

Morlaine cackled, taking a powder from her purse.

“If thy friend means so much to thee, then why does thou not join her?”

With that, she threw the powder at Merla’s feet, and Merla was sucked out of time.

* * *

Merla stumbled as she landed, still in her true form. Jen gasped.

“Merla!”

“Jen! What-”

“It was Modraed. He brought me here, and a girl called Morlaine took my place, saying something about me crushing Art’s heart,” Jen rambled.

Merla cursed, and the nearby Witches winced.

“ _I, de Merla elit, dimittam te ut annuntiet tibi captivos ira mea, pati!_ ”

The Witches scrambled back and released Jen, shoving her forward. Merla grabbed Jen, and together, they stepped back into the present.

* * *

They arrived just as it was time to announce prom king and queen. Gawain, the student body president, took the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please settle down,” he said, grabbing a mic. “The votes are in, and the winners are Arthur and Jennifer!”

The crowd burst into applause. Art and Morlaine were pushed toward the stage, where crowns were placed on their heads. They were just about to take their thrones when the doors to the gym burst open, admitting Merla and Jen.

“Stop!” they cried. “That isn’t Jen!”

“ _Populus CONGLACIOR!_ ” Merla shouted, and everyone froze, save herself, Jen, and Art.

“What’s going on?” asked Art. “Why are there two Jens?”

“That isn’t me, that’s a Witch called Morlaine!” cried Jen, pointing.

“She planned on making you hate her, then stick Jen back into the world,” Merla said. She quickly recounted the events of the past hours, making sure to emphasize that it was Morlaine, NOT Jen, that he had seen with Lance.

“She wants to be queen, so she can complete a spell begun centuries ago, and take revenge on the descendants of those who persecuted her kind, and something as simple as prom queen will do it. Oh, and you’re the direct descendent of the man who killed her family,” Merla added as an afterthought.

Art stared at her. She sighed.

“Just send her back to her own time, where she belongs, by making her drink this.”

Art took the cup Merla was offering him.

“ _And now… Tempus, sileo!_ ” she yelled, and the room came back alive.

Morlaine looked at Art. “I cannot become queen until you accept the position of king,” she hinted.

Art looked at Merla, who nodded.

“First, a drink,” he said, forcing the potion into her mouth.

She spluttered and gagged, gave a loud scream, and vanished, leaving nothing but a faint sense of evil lingering in the air.

Merla stepped onstage. “Sorry, people, but I’m gonna have to erase that scene from your memories, now. _Oblivisci!_ ”

She clapped, and a ripple flew from her hands. Everyone’s expression went blank, and she jumped offstage, helping Jen up beside Art.

When the spell finished its effect, the teenagers began clapping again, and the couple took their seats, Jen realizing as she did so that she was in her prom dress, and a tiara was on her head. She glanced at Merla, who winked.

The rest of the evening was very uneventful, and the four friends thought it was all over.

No one could have been more mistaken.

**Author's Note:**

> So that's it! I hope you enjoyed, I know the writing isn't my best, but I wrote it back in 2010 and was too lazy to rewrite the whole thing.
> 
> Come check me out on Tumblr [@overly-obsessed-fangirl1](https://overly-obsessed-fangirl1.tumblr.com/)


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